


Learned it from the Internet

by dondrapers_pen



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bondage and Discipline, Choking, Daddy Kink, Edgeplay, F/M, Kitchen Sex, Light Bondage, Name-Calling, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Pet Names, Rough Sex, Slight Aftercare, Slow Burn, Table Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:46:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25034926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dondrapers_pen/pseuds/dondrapers_pen
Summary: You honestly didn't expect much from Steve on your anniversary. That is, until Nat urges Steve to look up a few things on the internet.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 74





	Learned it from the Internet

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for the uber long intro. I like a slow burn when I see one.

“So…” Sam drawls, “got any big plans for the big night?”

Steve turns to face him, a coy smile tugging on the corner of his lips. Eventually, a chuckle falls from the same smile.

“Of course. Well, big for (Y/N) and I,” Steve replies, unwrapping his raw knuckles.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Sam chuckles, mimicking Steve’s moves and sending another smirk to him.

Steve took a moment to ponder Sam’s question. His question unintentionally made Steve feel self-conscious of his relationship. When Steve began dating (Y/N), she was well aware of his work and the diligence it required. It was why you picked up a job that was equally as demanding- and time consuming. In your small but comfortable DC apartment, the two of you would see each other in passing, almost. Steve was an early riser, someone who enjoyed a long nine mile run in the morning before a cold shower and a cup of joe before heading into another day of training or a tumultuous mission. He cooked himself a hearty breakfast and would leave a plate for you. While Steve preferred his usual coffee, he would leave a mug with your favorite tea and start boiling the water just a few minutes before you would arrive. Though your mornings were hardly aligned, it brought a smile to his face seeing you glow with rather tired eyes after a long shift. Just as you would walk in, he’d pour an ample amount of hot water into your mug and handed it to you with a swift but warm kiss to both welcome and bid you goodbye. Such an early and calming morning was vital to Steve, who was often faced with stress and more than enough punches throughout the day. His STRIKE team needed a leader who was composed and on his game.

You, on the opposite hand worked a graveyard shift at Bridgeport medical. Your morning routine consisted of you waking up some few hours before your scheduled shift. Typically, you liked to cook dinner/breakfast for yourself and left more than enough for Steve on the stove when he returned from S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, whatever time that may be (you taught him how to use a microwave). You were more than grateful to Steve for leaving you plenty of hot water for a long and relaxing shower before continuing with the rest of your night. Weekends were often compromised between the two of you, never knowing if Steve would be called on a weekend trip across the globe or if you would pick up an extra shift.

Needless to say, the two of you were in need of some well-deserved alone time.

“Well, you know how it is. (Y/N) and I hardly see each other, and I think we just want some time to relax in the comfort of our own home.”

“Is that what she wants or what you want?” Sam asks, raising a curious eyebrow.

“Hey, she needs a break too. I don’t think she’s expecting much-“

“Exactly, Rogers. Come on, you say you guys hardly see each other and poor (Y/N)’s losing sleep working night shifts. If she’s not expecting much- it kinda means she’s expecting a little more today.”

“(Y/N) is…she likes simplicity,” Steve tries to reason with Sam and himself, “I don’t know, is there something else I should be doing?”

“You should be making sure your recruits aren’t getting too handsy with your toys,” Natasha announces as she enters the room, “when you’re too busy with your locker room talk.”

Steve and Sam exchange confused glances, before Sam’s face drops dramatically. He runs through the door with a silent “Oh shit” upon his realization.

Natasha chuckles, before turning to Steve who has locked the case that holds his suit. “Big night for you?”

“So, you heard,” Steve almost draws out his words. His head hangs low, but his eyes glance up to Nat through his eyelashes, almost as if he is hiding behind them.

“Hard not to,” Nat smiles in return before continuing, “Sam’s got a point, though.”

“It’s amazing how much you miss while in the ice. I seem to not understand women these days, let alone my own girlfriend,” Steve laments.

“Don’t be like that. Plus, you understand (Y/N) well enough for you guys to still be dating despite never seeing each other,” Nat shrugs.

Steve lets out a sigh, hauling up his egregiously heavy gym bag over his shoulder. “So, what do I do?”

“(Y/N) might be simple, but I think it’d really surprise her if you did something a little…out of her comfort zone.”

Steve opens the front pocket of his gym bag, pulling out a rectangular red velvet package. He hands the box to her, which she unbuttons quickly like an envelope.

“I got this for her…You think she’ll like it?”

Pulling open the silk flaps that protect the jewelry in its place, Nat is met with a gold chain of freshwater, cultured pearls the size of ladybugs. They sit delicately on the chain, spaced out evenly. Steve imagined the necklace sitting upon (Y/N)’s chest, with each pearl decorating her skin like sparkles.

Nat looks up at Steve with a drawn back smile. ‘Wow, Steve. Can’t say I was expecting…this”

“Is that a good thing?”

“I’m teasing,” she chuckles, still enchanted by the necklace, “how’d you know to get her this?”

He takes the package back, tucking it back gently into his bag. “Sam taught me how to look at the history on (Y/N)’s computer. It was in her recent searches… I don’t think she figured I’d know how to use the internet.”

“Can you blame her?” Nat chuckles. “What else you got planned?”

“(Y/N)’s cooking my favorite. Just a nice wine night, maybe some dessert after. A nice quiet night…Is that enough?”

“And what about later?” Steve thinks for a moment and then he bashfully chuckles, hiding the heat that is rising to his cheeks. _Why are you doing this, Nat?_ Sam must have put her up this surely. Perhaps they were conspiring together.

“I can’t believe I’m having this conversation right now,” Steve presses a clammy hand to his forehead.

“Oh, come on, soldier!” Nat laughs breathlessly. “I’m not trying to be vulgar; I’m just trying to help you. If I were (Y/N), I’d wanna be wowed. You know what I think…I think she’s used to boy scout Steve.”

Steve shoots an almost alarmed look at Nat. God, what is she _on_ about?

“Try something a little… experimental tonight.”

When you heard the sound of the various locks being picked (you can never be too careful when living with an avenger), you quickly tuck any strands of hair behind your ear and lick off any marinara sauce that resided on your fingers.

“Hey, baby,” you call out, still engrossed in your preparation.

Steve gracefully walked into the kitchen, already wearing a boyish smile on his face. Without hesitation, you quickly run into his arms and are effortlessly grabbed in a hug by him. Soon, his lips are on your’s enjoying the warmness of your embrace.

“You’re already eating dinner?” he questions as he pulls away from your kiss.

“No! Ugh, it just got kinda messy in here, I had trouble opening the sauce and-“ you blabbered on and pointed to your messy work station. Christ, you were a phenomenal and unique cook. It was something Steve deeply admired about you, something he would quickly brag about to those who’d listen. However, you were a messy cook and often found yourself making excuses for such inorganization. His thumb reaches over to caress the corner of her your lip, wiping up the marinara sauce from it.

“Oh,” you chuckle nervously, “god that’s embarrassing.”

Suddenly, your heartbeat has picked up. You watch precariously as Steve sucked the tip of his thumb into his mouth, gently and sensually licking the sauce he had picked up from the corner of your lip. His eyes looked down at you alluringly, almost betrayingly innocent.

“Tastes great, honey,” he smiles. _Is this what Nat was talking about?_

“I’m glad you like!” You exclaim, finally snapping out of your trance. God, watching that man do just about anything was often enough to get you riled up. _Was he even aware of his effect on you?_

Steve finally releases your arms, noticing how you had become rather tense since your kiss.

“Smells good too!” Steve follows you to the counter where he peers into the dimly lit oven to see a tray of his favorite: lasagna- and Lord, did you make the best lasagna (besides his mom, of course).

“I hope so,” you reply as you begin slicing a loaf of bread. “You mind fixing us some drinks baby?”

Steve has retreated to the corner of your living room, retrieving a bottle of whiskey that was being saved for quite a while from the bar. “What’s your fix tonight?” He calls out to you.

“Whatever you’re having. But if you’re making a Manhattan can you just make me an old fashioned?”

“They’re the same!” He replies, laughing at your stance on the two similar drinks, to which you answer back with some explanation on how the sugar used is completely different, thus making the drinks their own. He returns with the two (similar) drinks, handing you your old fashioned as you finish coating the bread in oil.

“To us,” Steve toasts, holding up his glass and reaching his arm around your waist.

“To us, thank you for...an exciting year” As his hand sits on your waist, you use the tip of your toes to help you reach up and plant yet another kiss on his awaiting lips. This kiss is more intense than the first, you can feel Steve’s hot breath on your mouth, as if he is restraining himself from something. “To many more,” you hear him breathe once again, as he kisses the corner of your lips. You release as your legs begin to feel like jelly from Steve’s sensual like nature. You take a sip from your drink, hoping it will relax your body a bit. He mimics you and watches you as you turn back towards the counter to finish your finishing preparations.

“You should wash up babe, the lasagna should be done soon, and I’ll set the table for us.” You turn to face the bread once again, placing the slices into a bowl. There is still a presence in the room, you feel, as if Steve has not listened to your advice.

“Only if you’ll join me,” Steve replies almost stoically.

Your eyebrows scrunch together in dismay or confusion- one of the two. The limbs in your legs have frozen and you nearly drop the bowl you are holding. Deciding that he is probably just trying to flirt with you (which you have no problem with), you snicker in reply. Now Steve’s head tilts to the side in confusion. Isn’t this what you would call “experimental”?

Steve jumped at any opportunity to flirt with you. He had a bottomless, never ending list of nicknames and compliments to label you and they mostly fell into the old-fashioned category. You were accustomed to hearing “honey”, “sweetie”, “love”, “gorgeous”, sometimes even “doll”. He would even slip up to his coworkers and call you his “dame” or his “girl”. Love making was just as old-fashioned and sweet. It was _exclusively_ in the bedroom usually in missionary, but you had soon convinced Steve to let you ride him once or twice. However, for Steve to be so daring as to be quite oral with the sauce on your lips was quite jarring for you to see, despite your passionate sex. His shower comment also caught you by surprise because he has never invited you in for shower or even entertained the idea.

“Come on, I’m serious,” you say with a smile, which almost contradicts your statement. You open the cupboard to take out two large dinner plates. The feeling of two warm and large arms snake around your waist, each finding their own places to reside. His right hand has come to sit underneath your breast while his left grips your waist tightly.

Steve’s stern nose comes to rest upon the crook of your neck and shoulder, breathing in deeply before moving up to your ear.

“So am I,” he whispers against it. You feel something against your backside.

Good Lord, was Steve tipsy? He couldn’t be! A man of his stature couldn’t get this tipsy after one Manhattan. It suddenly strikes you that the serum cannot even allow Steve to get drunk. You gulp.

“Steve,” you chuckle almost nervously in reply. “What are you on about?” Your tone has shift to almost one of intrigue.

Steve’s hand finds trouble roaming. He’s a man of respect and diligence. But even he has found some trouble keeping his hands to himself when it comes to you. Soon his hands have found their own rhythm as they massage the current areas they occupy.

“You smell so good,” he whispers once again. His lips have found the hollow underneath your ear lobe as he secures it by placing soft, butterfly like kisses on your neck. You can’t help but moan his name in reply and arch your neck to the side, so he has more roaming space. Coarse yet gentle hands now dig themselves into your body, and now Steve has his hand over your breast, gently kneading it. His tongue creeps over your skin, inching up towards your ear once again as he sucks in your cartilage into his mouth, sucking on it gently.

“Taste good too.”

The same strong hands that grip your waist and breast spin you around so now you are facing him. His hips have you pinned against the counter and the astounding, almost embarrassing height difference leaves little room for you to breathe. His hands have shifted from their previous position to sit underneath your jawline, cupping your face in his hands in a gentle way. However, the look in his eyes suggests anything but gentle. He rouses the same portrayal of innocence as his thumbs graze over your jawline lovingly but deceives you with a playful smirk laced on his lips.

“Steve,” you begin to moan but are suddenly entranced by the movement of his jawline clenching.

“I want to please my angel,” Steve almost demands, as his thumb begins playing with your lower lip. You’re mind is far from dinner right now.

His thumb is still dancing on your lower lip, practically begging for entrance. You do as he wishes, opening your mouth slightly and you let your tongue creep out to help suck his thumb into your mouth. All it takes is your lips on his thumb for him to have you picked up in his arms. Your legs wrap around his waist instantaneously as his hands grip your thighs intensely. He kisses you deeply, with every passing moment he sticks his tongue out further, licking your lower lip and sucking it into his mouth. You’re placed on the dining room table, not far from the kitchen itself and you’re thankful you haven’t even begun to set the table because Steve intends on making a mess.

As you sit on the table, arms still wrapped around Steve’s neck and legs spread and wrapped around his waist, you push deeper into the kiss, fondling his hair at the nape of his neck. Steve’s hands, however, have worked to your inner thighs, pushing them apart from each other so that he has ample room to do whatever he wants to you.

With your dress already pushed up to your waist, he pushes the fabric back even more to expose your already soaked pussy clenching onto the white satin-like fabric of your panties. Steve places his palm against your panties and applies the slightest bit of pressure just to make your core feel hot, prompting you to gasp and suck in your breath. His middle finger strokes you softly in the most tantalizing manner, making you shiver at his touch.

“Look at you-you’re already so wet for me. Is this what your captain does to you? What daddy makes you feel?”

Your lips have slightly parted to allow more air into your head. His fingers are picking up its pace and all you can do is nod and reply to him. He stops to gently take off your panties, gliding off your legs with the help of his swift hands. With your legs outstretched, he plants soft and butterfly like kisses on your leg and slowly gets on his knees to tantalize you even more. He uses one hand to grab your waist and pull you closer to the edge of the table where your core is at level with his nose. Not that you were complaining, but where the hell did Steve _learn_ this?

His mouth opens slightly, soon, his tongue is now gliding along your inner thigh making its way to your opening.

“I saw this somewhere on the internet…I thought I could give it a try,” Steve whispers softly against your skin. He can see you panting in anticipation for what he’s about to do to you.

“But I want you to tell me you want it,” he growls.

“I want it, Steve…Please I want your tongue,” you reply as your arms feel like jelly, melting onto the table in an effort to support your quivering figure.

“No,” Steve pulls his face back, his large and muscular arm reaching up gently before latching onto your neck. You yelp a bit in surprise and are forced to look down at him. Now, Steve stands up once again and his blue eyes are looking down at you with sternness. “What’s my name again?”

“Please, daddy,” you breathe out, “Daddy I want it,” you answer with pleading eyes, hoping it’s enough to convince him.

“Good girl,” he growls in return. He resumes his previous position and immediately draws a long lap from the bottom of your opening to the top before sucking your clit into his mouth. His fingers aid in his endeavors, using his index finger and middle finger to pull apart your folds and explore. He gently lets the tip of his tongue round your clit like the sauce on your lips on his thumb. He continues to repeat the same notion of kitten like laps against your pussy, licking up every single drop of your juices like its water in the desert.

Suddenly, you feel a finger inching its way inside you- and then two. It’s utter bliss. Steve gains a rhythm inside your warmness, curling his fingers up so that they hit your g-spot with every thrust inside you. He switches through a fast and slow pace, biting his lower lip before returning to your engorged clit again. His head is almost bobbing at he quickly licks your clit, feeling u shake against his mouth. He loves seeing you like this. Like a little slut. He pulls away:

“Tell daddy how it feels, baby.”

“It…” You can’t stop moaning. Steve’s newly found dominance is extremely arousing and driving you over the edge. It’s what you’ve always wanted- to be dominated and tongue fucked by him. “It’s so good. You’re gonna make me cum.”

Steve takes his fingers out of you quickly and he stares up at you, waiting for you to come down from your high.

“What was that?” He demands. You try stuttering out what you just said but now you’re practically entranced by the way Steve gently puts his index finger that is coated with your juices in his mouth. He licks it off entirely, making a dramatic and loud moan from how good you taste. He wants to put on a show for you, he wants you to see you beg for him. God, he can feel his throbbing length against the table. He stands up again, watching as your eyes flutter from either nervousness or ecstasy. He likes to imagine its nervousness-and it probably is given by the way you look up at him from your eyelashes.

“I didn’t say you could, my angel,” he says dryly. His other hand reaches up and grabs your chin, cupping your face in his large hand so you’re forced to stare at him. “When _daddy_ says you can cum…Then you have my permission to. I’ll have to punish you for that,” he says. With your lips still pursed from the way he’s grabbing your face you try to mutter an apology. This is new to you-but it feels so natural to be dominated by Steve.

“I-I-‘m sorry, daddy,” you mumble, hoping he’ll accept your pathetic apology. You almost want to be punished. 

"Speak. Up.” He says, tightening his grip on your face. He moves his hand down to your neck and squeezes it.

“I-“

“I want you to open your mouth. Stick that tongue out for me,” he commands, finding your mumbling pathetic. You do as he says.

He places his other hand he used to fuck you with, still wet with your juices, right in front of your lips.

“Suck.” To appease him, you take his middle finger in your mouth and do as he commands, using your tongue to massage his finger as you stare up at him. “Good girl. See how good you taste?” he praises and then moans egregiously.

“Lie down. Now.” He says as he begins unbuckling his belt. You quickly lower your back onto the table adjusting your shoulders, so you are in a comfortable position to be mouthfucked. As you turn your head, you’re faced with Steve’s already hard cock sitting inches away from your lips.

“I know how much my good girl loves pleasing daddy. Start sucking baby. And don’t you dare stop looking at me,” he raises his voice only slightly. You inch closer to him and take him in your mouth, first getting the tip wet before taking only a few more inches. His cock is growing harder by the second in your mouth as it scrapes the back of your throat, you can feel yourself gagging on him. You bob your head in an almost up and down motion to please him.

“God, you make the prettiest sounds, baby. Keep sucking daddy,” Steve groans out, letting his fingers entangle themselves in your hair to gain a steady rhythm. He starts thrusting forward gently, still having regard for your gag reflex. His other free hand abandons his balls, which he lets you suck generously as well. Soon, you feel a finger massaging your trembling clit and you desperately want to move against his hand to feel the growing orgasm inside of you. But you won’t- you won’t disobey him. “My angel…so good.”

Steve takes himself out of your mouth and looks down at you, a string of your saliva still attached to his cock. You’re focusing on catching your breath, but it’s quickly lost again when Steve begins gently thrusting his dick over your face. Your tongue seeps out, taking his length as he begins smacking you with his cock; your saliva meets your face once again as he feels the warmth of your tongue.

“Daddy…I want you inside me,” you plead.

“I still have to punish you, baby, for thinking you’re in charge. You know your captain’s in charge. You only listen to your captain, got it?” He says as he picks up his belt from his pants. “Stick your hands out.”

Your eyes widen as you look at his black leather belt outstretched in front of you. You carefully lift your wrists in surrender, pushing them together with your fingers facing each other. He has taken the buckle of the belt and formed a smaller one, leaving plenty of room for your tiny wrists to fit. You only have a second to breathe before the belt tightens around your wrists, and you find yourself immobile. Your curiosity is getting the better of you and you turn to face Steve once more.

“Did you learn this on the internet, too?”

“Army, actually,” he smirks. Steve plays spin the bottle with your small figure, gripping your legs like they are sticks and turning them so now his pelvis is facing yours. He forces you to stand up, hands still bound together in anticipation of your punishment. His next movements are anything but. His soft lips have crashed onto yours again, delicately enveloping your lips into his like a warm hug. With each kiss, you could feel yourself dripping wet as Steve’s tongue gradually found yours-licking and fighting with it. His large hands moved from your lower back to your ass and he slowly moved your dress up to firmly grab your ass and squeeze it slightly. You jump almost at his touch, but you feel helpless because of your bound hands.

Lost in your thoughts, you are finally broken out of your trance when Steve’s force has turned you around so now your backside is facing him. With a slow and steady hand, his hand pushes you down onto the table. His fingers trace down your flattened spine before it reaches your ass again. Steve is undeniably riled and aroused from how still you are, like a prey waiting for its predator to move. He can’t help but admit it-he loves the control- but he absolutely adores how your juices are dripping down your inner thighs out of impatience. _What a filthy slut you are, just for him_ … if only he had done this sooner.

Soon the sensation of burning, white hot and sudden pain is spreading across your ass. Did he just spank you? Before you have time to question further, you feel his palm slapping your ass again in the same spot. For a moment, it doesn’t feel like anything, but you can feel the mark begin to sting and redden.

Your dress is lifted over your hips even more for ample spanking and movement. Steve decides to attack your other cheek, not even giving you time to breathe before your hip is digging into the table. The way your body is positioned is torturous to your pulsing and swollen clit. Every spank digs you deeper into shaking bliss. You finally cry out:

“I’m sorry, daddy!”

Steve chuckles under his laboring breath. His hard cock is against your ass, as if he wants to play and slip it into your hole-but he won’t. He feels he has punished you enough-at least for your own sake. His now dry hand softly rubs the reddened skin he has marked as his own, attempting to soothe the ache. His other hand, however, is not so gentle with you, as you feel a rough tugging of your hair from the bane of your neck. With a yelp, you’ve been lifted from your stomach and now your neck is embarrassingly exposed. Steve’s teeth are nibbling on your collarbone, loving the mix of pained and pleasured sounds falling from your bruised lips.

“You know what I wanna do with you now, doll?” Your body is shaking in anticipation and delight. A small, breathless noise gives Steve his answer.

“I’m gonna fuck you right here on this table…” You feel movement behind you and the feeling of fabric falling on your feet. “However I want. And you’re gonna take _all_ of it. Isn’t that right, doll?”

“Y-yes daddy,” you answer, terrified that any other words would warrant another punishment. You had to admit- you loved the utter lack of control you held, but your swollen wrists and ass simply could not endure any more pain. You just needed him inside you.

“That’s right, baby,” Steve growled against you. His hand released your hair from his tight grip and resumed its previous position between your shoulder blades. The force he had asserted before was replaced by gentle kisses on the small of your back, attempting to alleviate the pain inflicted by Steve’s hands.

With a long moan erupting from Steve, he slipped his member into you slowly. His fingers had stretched you out, surely, but your walls needed to adjust to his girthy cock. You shut your eyes only momentarily, but you let out a sharp and loud gasp when he pulled out and pounded back into you.

Much like before, your clit is still edging dangerously against the table, drilling it into warm and almost painful bliss.

“How’s that dick feel, baby?” Steve grunts out. His nails are digging into your hips. With every buck of his pelvis, the table just moves more and more into your clit.

“So good, daddy,” you pant out. Fuck, you can barely catch a breath, but you love the pain.

“Whose pussy is this? Tell me who it belongs to, slut,” he barks out. He smacks your ass so hard you yelp out.

“Y-your’s! It’s your’s daddy.” Your eyes are closed shut, and your wrists are shaking and aching from the belt. When Steve pulls you up by your hair again you moan out in pain and your body only shakes more. Even though Steve is practically keeping you balanced, your legs are becoming like jelly from your nearing orgasm.

He repositions you with a hand around your exposed neck and another hand on your breast. Steve has suddenly picked up his pace, his cock slamming into your g-spot. You feel like his throbbing cock is in your stomach and you’re not sure if you’re gonna orgasm or cry. The hand occupying your breast now moves down to your clit-now you’re really gonna cry.

 _“I wanna hear you cum for me, angel,”_ he commands.

You’re a shaking hot mess. Your wrists still bound together are also quivering and hoping he’ll stop fucking you so you can gain some footing. All he does is keep fucking you and biting onto your sweaty, glistening shoulders. As you come down from your orgasm, you hear Steve moan loudly and a warm, sticky substance is dripping from your opening.

Your chest meets the table again, grasping for any bit of air that isn’t sweaty and humid. All you want is sleep, and maybe some of that lasagna that was probably done cooking a few minutes ago. A line of kisses is being traced up your back and Steve can certainly tell you’re tired by the way he gently kisses your glossy forehead. “Happy anniversary, my love,” he whispers. The belt holding your wrists together is slowly come undone and Steve takes note of your trembling lakes. He picks you up in his arms, warm and as gentle as he can be, and brings you over to the couch.

“Still up for our shower?”


End file.
